


Distended

by orphan_account



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Force-Feeding, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Mocking, Psychological Torture, Starvation, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:15:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24157228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “No more, you said?”“Maybe this will be the last time I ever feed you then.”
Relationships: Ramsay Bolton/Theon Greyjoy
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	Distended

**Author's Note:**

> I ate too much at 2am last night and decided to write this while recovering from the discomfort. Idk how to feel abt it. Whatever here u go

“Open. Your. Mouth.” Ramsay demanded, his voice icy cold and full of poorly hidden anger. Theon’s lower lip wobbled, his stomach churning and distended uncomfortably, but he obeyed. 

He’d been so stupid to think Ramsay was just being nice to him, coming to feed him and make sure he was alive. He’d gotten more and more nervous the more Ramsay fed him, the more forkfuls of food were pushed into his mouth while his own hands were bound behind his back. 

Ramsay pushed in another forkful, a thick cube of meat slathered in juices and seasonings, and Theon couldn’t do anything but whimper pathetically as he chewed. He looked up at Ramsay, his eyes wide and wet, but the look in those ice cold eyes was enough to force him to swallow. He wasn’t going to make Ramsay tell him to swallow, no, that would be much worse... his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed it, his stomach grumbling quietly. He was so full it hurt, so full that his belly was visibly bulging, if only slightly. He felt like he might throw up, his skin felt hot, and his eyes were growing wet. It hurt. He couldn’t take anymore, he could not eat another bite, but Ramsay was dipping a chunk of bread into a thick, rich sauce and then moving to hold it in front of him, and Theon let out an audible sob. 

“Please, I can’t, please-“

“What?” Ramsay looked at him, eyes a fraction wider and expression twisting with anger. “You can’t? You can’t eat? Is that what you’re telling me? I bring you a gift, I feed you myself, and you’re saying you can’t?” 

“I’m sorry.” Theon babbled, tears now beginning to spill from his eyes. “My stomach, it’s- I can’t- I’m sorry, I’m sorry...” 

“You’re sorry.” Ramsay scoffed. “You’re so fucking useless. So ungrateful. Open your fucking mouth.” 

Theon sniffled, lifting his head a fraction and reluctantly opening his mouth. Ramsay grabbed his jaw in his free hand, holding it open as he shoved in the hunk of bread, forcing it into Theon’s mouth before forcing his mouth shut. 

“Chew, and swallow.” He said, and the rage in his voice was hidden just below the surface, threatening to overflow. “Now.” 

The tears began streaming more heavily from Theon’s eyes as he forced himself to chew the bread, forced himself to swallow, forced himself to hide his gagging as best he could. He felt on the verge of throwing up, and his stomach’s quiet gurgling made that quite clear. He felt like he might burst, as if his stomach would become unable to take it and the skin of his belly would split open to let everything out. He gagged again, forcing himself to hold it back, swallowing down the bile that rose in his throat. He couldn’t puke. If he did, his punishment would be so much worse. 

“I’m amused by the bulging of your stomach, but I must say, I do like you better without it.” Ramsay taunted, nudging said bulge harshly with the tip of his boot and watching as Theon shuddered. 

There was still food on the table, however, and it seemed Ramsay didn’t seem to eager for Theon to lose his bulging stomach any time soon. He reached for the platter, pausing for a moment before picking up some sort of cake. Theon didn’t recognize it- at least not with tears streaming from his eyes and blurring his vision. 

“I can’t, please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I can’t-“ Theon began babbling, only to be interrupted again. 

“You will eat your dessert.” Ramsay snarled, growing impatient and reaching forward to force Theon’s mouth open with thick, filthy fingers, using his other hand to shove the thick, dense cake into his mouth. Ramsay’s fingers were wet with butter, juices, and icing. They left smears of residue on Theon’s chin when he pulled them away. He held a hand over his mouth, forcing it shut, forcing Theon to swallow and try his best not to gag. 

He felt so sick, fighting down the urge to vomit, as surely Ramsay would punish him if he did. He wouldn’t put it past Ramsay to shove his face in it and make him clean it up, and that would be infinitely worse than just continuing to eat whatever the bastard forced down his throat. But he couldn’t eat more, he couldn’t, and when Ramsay lifted a spoonful of honey, Theon broke down. 

“Please, I can’t, no more, no more, don’t make me, I can’t, please, please-“ He blabbered, barely coherent, sobs making his words harder and harder to understand. 

“No more?” Ramsay scoffed, reaching out with his free hand to force Theon’s jaw and open his mouth once more. “No more, you said?” He shoved the spoon in, pouring the thick, sugary honey into his mouth, quickly following it up with another chunk of the cake. “Maybe this will be the last time I ever feed you then.” 

Theon sobbed, crumbs falling from his lips as he struggled to chew, the sugar causing his teeth to ache and the taste causing bile to once again rise in his throat. He couldn’t, he knew he couldn’t, and he lost control when he tried to swallow once again. He couldn’t fight his gag reflex anymore, and he doubled over, vomiting onto the cold, filthy floor as Ramsay stared down at him. He heaved, gasping for air before throwing up again, and again, emptying his stomach and then throwing up bile, and then dry-heaving pathetically as his tears splattered onto the mess on the floor. 

He expected anger. He expected rage, to be shoved into his mess and beaten bloody. Instead, he heard laughter. Quiet at first, and then rising in volume, until he looked up at Ramsay and saw the man’s head tipped back and his expression full of sick glee as Theon gasped and trembled at his feet. 

“Pathetic.” Ramsay hissed, lips curved into a twisted grin. “But at least I don’t have to worry about bringing you food for a while, hm? You’ll have plenty to eat right here.” He gestured toward the mess, and then laughed again. “Oh, Reek. You pathetic little thing.” 

Ramsay stepped back, careful not to get any of the filth on his shoes. 

“Of course, I expect this to be clean by the next time I come to see you. Wouldn’t want to get my shoes dirty, you know.” He winked at the shaking mess of a man on his floor, who wasn’t even looking at him anymore. “I guess I’ll be going then, hm?” He picked up the tray and the remaining food on it from the table, and after a moment of contemplation, dropped the rest of the food into the puddles of vomit on the floor before heading to the door. He glanced back one more time. “Goodbye, Reek.” 

Theon’s response was muffled by his sobs, a pathetic ‘goodbye master’ that barely even he himself could hear. But Ramsay didn’t need to hear it to know it was said. No, his Reek was good, obedient... he’d have to be punished next time for being so ungrateful, but for now... 

For now, Ramsay would let him wallow in fear and punish himself with whatever horrified thoughts came into his stupid little head.


End file.
